


Red Alert

by Alys_Brauer



Series: Spones Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Crack, Fluff, M/M, prompt fills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 09:00:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8156546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alys_Brauer/pseuds/Alys_Brauer
Summary: A prompt fill from my tumblr account mckirkishPrompt: Spones + Shoes“Leonard, do you happen to recall where you threw my boots in your excitement to divest me of my clothing?”





	

It isn’t often that Spock loses control.

Hell, who is he kidding? Spock  _never_  loses control, but sometimes he’s thoughtful enough to let Leonard  _think_ he’s gotten swept up in the heat of the moment.

For the whole ‘Vulcan’s do not lie’ thing, Spock can be a very convincing actor when he chooses to be.

Leonard flops back on the bed with a breathless laugh and a half smirk. “Hell, Spock,” he pants, rolling on his side to watch the Vulcan settle, with much more control, next to him. “That was-”  he stops, at a complete loss for words about  _what_  exactly that had been, beyond amazing – which he’s definitely shouted enough for the time being.

“Indeed, Leonard.” Spock nods, then smiles.

Leonard will never get tired of that smile, an expression he only gets to see behind closed doors because Spock is just too damned Vulcan to let any emotion show when they’re supposed to be working.

Deft fingers run slowly down Leonard’s arm, making him shiver slightly. He licks his lips and lifts his eyes to meet Spock’s returning his soft smile as those fingers reach his hand, and lightly rest against Leonard’s index and middle finger.

He curls his fingers slightly, and closes his eyes with a soft hum. “Good thing we don’t work til Beta tomorrow,” he mumbles sleepily.

Spock might have made some kind of comment, probably about him not needing nearly as much sleep as a human, but it fades into the background as the day, and their recent activities, finally catch up with Leonard and he drops off to sleep.

_“Red alert! Red alert! All hands to battle stations. Repeat: Red alert! All hands to battle stations!”_

With a start, Leonard sits bolt upright in bed, his eyes wide, his hair wild. “Shit. What’s he done this time?”

Because Captain James T. Kirk is definitely at fault, somehow. They’ve had a quiet few weeks, and Leonard and Spock finally have two shifts off,  _in a row_ , at the same time. So of course Jim had to have done something to fuck it all up.

“There is insufficient data to come to any conclusion, Leonard.” Spock’s voice comes from somewhere near the vicinity of the couch.  “Nor should we assume that the Captain had any direct hand in-”

“All right, all right. I get it,” Leonard interrupts, grumpy due to the fact that he’d been woken by a blaring alarm in the middle of his REM cycle.

Blindly, he gropes for his shirt, no point in trying to find a clean one at this point, besides no one will be able to tell. He grabs the first thing his hand comes into contact with, and pulls it over his head.

He can barely pull over his chest, and it takes him longer than he’ll ever admit, to realize that this one is probably Spock’s. “Shit. This one’s yours,” he calls to the vague shape he can see stooped over by the couch. He tosses Spock his shirt, and then continues to scramble blindly for some clothes.

_“Red alert! Red alert! All crew to battle stations. Senior officers to the bridge. Repeat: red alert! All crew to battle stations. Senior officers to the bridge.”_

Leonard finishes pulling on his boots and jumps to his feet, straightening his uniform. “Spock?”

The vague shape has moved from the couch, toward the bathroom, still stooped over.

“Spock? What’s taking so long? We have to get to the bridge.”

“Leonard, do you happen to recall where you threw my boots in your excitement to divest me of my clothing?”

Leonard freezes, a grin twitching at his lips. “Uh,” he responds intelligently, trying to remember just where they had been when Leonard had started tossing bits of clothing.

Spock straightens, one boot in his hand, his hair looking like- well, exactly like he’d had wild sex only a few hours ago. “Never mind. We can locate it after the current crisis is past.” Without another word, Spock strides purposefully out the door of Leonard’s quarters, leaving Leonard to run and catch up.

In the turbolift, Leonard manages to get his own hair mostly in order, and straightens his decidedly rumpled uniform again, before the doors whoosh open.

The entire bridge crew is already there, and they’re all staring at the door.

“Well that took far too long.” Jim is smirking in the captain’s chair. His eyes jump from Leonard’s rumpled uniform, to Spock’s dishevelled hair, and land on the single boot that Spock is still holding.

“Am I to assume, Captain,” Spock says smoothly, walking onto the bridge in just his socks and not even looking the least bit disturbed by the situation. “That this was just a drill?”

“Right on the first try, Spock. Where,” Jim pauses, clearly trying to contain his laughter. “Where is the rest of your uniform, Commander?” he asks with a shit-eating grin.

Spock’s eyebrow rises, but Leonard doesn’t wait for him to answer.

Growling under his breath, Leonard stalks forward and grabs the boot from Spock’s hand and lobs the shoe directly at his captain’s smug face.

 


End file.
